


In Case You Were Wondering, I Don't Like You

by quietcarnage



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Dear Evan Hansen References, Denial of Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter References, Identity Reveal, Jealous Peter Parker, M/M, Nicknames, Peter Parker Has a Crush, Peter Parker Loves Wade Wilson, Peter Parker is a Mess, Pining, Protective Wade Wilson, References to Supernatural (TV), Secret Identity, Sexual Harassment, Tony Stark knows, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcarnage/pseuds/quietcarnage
Summary: Spider-Man's never really cared for Deadpool all that much, until he starts crushing on him as Peter Parker.OrPeter meets Deadpool out of the suit for the first time and (after an impromptu movie night) falls hard.





	1. Chapter 1

There were few things of which Peter Parker was absolutely certain of.

First, Bert and Ernie were gay. Secondly, Shrek 2 was the perfect sequel. And finally, under no circumstances did he think he would ever loathe someones company as much as he loathed Deadpools.

Not only was he utterly incapable of keeping his mouth shut for more than a minute, but the utter disregard for his own safety, often resulting in a temporary death or dismemberment, freaked Peter out more than anything else in the world. He knew that the merc had a healing factor that put even Wolverine’s to shame, but witnessing it firsthand never failed to draw a reaction out of him, no matter how many times he watched the masked man sit up mere minutes after eating bullets.

The first time had been the absolute worst. Around the time they first met, Deadpool had tagged along on a standard patrol around the neighborhood. It wasn’t anything big, just a run of the mill mugging from the average lowlife purse snatcher. The assailant had pulled a gun on him, and in the blink of an eye Deadpool had used himself as a meatshield, earning about two or three bullets in the chest point blank, effectively killing him. In the moment, Peter had been so shocked that he immediately dropped to the ground to check on the merc, allowing the mugger to get away. He remembered holding onto Deadpool’s hand and watching the shaky rise and fall of his chest slow to a nothing as he stopped breathing. 

The whole scene reminded him of what had happened to his uncle and he was immediately flooded with guilt, regret and self loathing. If he had been just a little bit faster, or if he had just been a better hero, then the other hero wouldn’t have had to sacrifice himself. Peter had been absolutely _wrecked._

For about ten minutes.

Deadpool had, of course, sprung back to life to the sight of Spider-Man hunched over, covered in his blood, and sobbing into his chest. Definitely in the middle of a nervous breakdown.

It took nearly half an hour to calm him down and convince him that he was in fact alive again, and not a guilt-based hallucination.

He grimaced at the memory. He hated watching the merc willingly put himself in harms way, no matter how many times it happened. And he especially hated that the merc seemingly had no issue or awareness as to how mentally draining it was to watch someone die over and over again.

“-Earth to Spidey, your burrito’s getting cold. Better finish it before I do.”

Peter snapped out of his flashback and turned his attention to the red suited merc beside him. He had began making obscene gestures with the half eaten burrito in his hand, a smirk plastered on his scarred face visible under the half-rolled up mask resting on the bridge of his nose.

"I abhor you,” he rolled his eyes and took an aggressive bite out of his now-lukewarm burrito as his legs hung over the side of the roof. They had fallen into a pattern of meeting up to patrol together, then getting street food before they went their separate ways for the night. Peter’s current favorite was the taco truck on 4th that he could smell a mile away, and that to his glee, the merc would indulge him in whenever they were close by. Patrol that night had gone relatively smoothly, save for the nasty bruise that had began sporting its ugly colors on his cheek.

“Admit it, you meant to say that you _adore_ me.”

And that was _another_ thing that irritated him about the merc. The incessant and unabashed _flirting_. He had absolutely no filter on the words spilling from his mouth, which could range from mouth curlingly vulgar comments on his assets to blush-inducing compliments so sweet they were almost believably genuine. But that could never be true, seeing as Deadpool was just that flirtatious with, well, everybody. That wasn’t to say that it didn’t affect him though, as he often found his face heating up under all the attention, grateful that his mask hid his entire face and neck. Peter reminded himself often that it was just Deadpool, that he didn't actually like him, but then he would do something like buy his food, or pick him flowers from a store window planter. It was sweet. But it was also messy, and complicated, and it was easier to just hate him. So that’s what he did. Just buried the feelings.

“The only thing I adore is the time I get to spend away from you.” He huffed, crumpling the burrito wrapper between his hands and dropping it to dumpster below them. Deadpool hissed next to him, clutching his heart. “Ouch, words hurt you know.” He pouted. Peter chuckled, glancing at the StarkWatch on his wrist. “Speaking of time away from you, I gotta get going. The Avengers want me home early tonight. Something about a surprise or whatever, but I know they're just saying that to get me home before curfew.” Peter stood up stretching out his back. Deadpool eyed him carefully as he pulled the mask down over the other half of his face, concealing it. 

"You have a curfew? Really? How old are you even?" Deadpool asked, his eyebrow raising in question. "Old enough. Tony just worries because he thinks I'm on my own, that’s all." Peter responded as he headed towards a ledge.

“Ohhh, alright, so your actual-daddy wants you home, and you _have_ to go because you don't want him to know about the fact that you’re hanging out with your sugar-daddy. Am I getting that right?”

“Well, no, not really. He knows I’m hanging with you, he just doesn’t like it and actively chooses to ignore it. Plus, buying me a burrito doesn’t make you my sugar daddy. You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to get anywhere near that title” Peter dusted the burrito crumbs off his lap, which was probably pointless, seeing as a swing across the city would have swept all the crumbs off anyway. 

“Come on, Webs, what do I have to buy you? Name your price. Nothing’s too expensive if it means that I get to hear you call me ‘daddy’.” He made the motion of waggling his eyebrows through his mask. Peter only stared back blankly, and after a beat of silence, made sure to turn down the idea completely. The last time he had left one of Deadpools crazy ideas to just hang up in the air, he found himself on a five hour flight to California because _someone_ had thought that it would be a great idea to steal Ryan Reynolds star off the Walk of Fame. He had to return the star along with a stickied apology from the both of them, which sucked, seeing as people proceeded to photograph him, pinning the theft on Spider-Man. Tony had called it a PR nightmare, and had been grumpy about it for days. 

“No, it’s never gonna happen. You’re literally the worst, you understand that right?” 

“Only the best at being the worst for you, baby boy.” he grinned. Peter groaned at the pet name, turning to leave. “I thought I told you not to call me that.” 

“I don’t know what to actually call you though. Why don’t you tell me your actual name, and I’ll cut it out” he suggested hopefully.

“You can have my name when I stop finding your existence repulsive.” Peter swung off.

\------------------------

The next time he saw Deadpool was a whole week after their last encounter. It was barely noon, and he was in the middle of the beginning of a Harry Potter movie marathon when, according to FRIDAY, someone was trying to break into the Avengers compound. Mr. Stark had wanted _him specifically_ to go deal with it. He didn’t understand why, but figured it was probably due to how minor the situation was. 

Or probably just a way to annoy him, because it was Tony and he could. 

Reluctantly, he got out of bed, his bare feet slapping the cold floor as he made his way down the stairs to the ground level floor. He didn’t bother with shoes, seeing as he planned to just go out to the gate, tell the loiterer to get lost, and be back in his room cozying up to The Sorcerer's Stone in less than ten minutes. It should have been straightforward enough.

So obviously, it wasn’t. 

He approached the front gate only to find that the supposed 'intruder' was actually Deadpool pushing the intercom button with the blunt side of a knife asking to be let in for ‘official superhero-slash-avenging business’. He facepalmed, making a mental note to have it out with Stark later about passing all Deadpool related chores onto him. Last month, Deadpool had sent the Avengers _Mysterios bloody helmet_ through the mail, along with a crude crayon drawing of himself in full suit kicking said head off the body. Tony had sent Peter to go find out if Mysterio was still alive or not (he was), and whether or not Deadpool planned on mercing any other baddies (he was not). It was all very exhausting, and Deadpools crazy explanation was that “Far From Home tore my heart and soul from my body, and no matter how hot Jake Gyllenhaal was, he had it coming.”

Which made absolutely no sense at all.

He stepped in front of the metal gate, catching the merc’s attention. “Uh, what are you doing here?” he started, mentally bracing himself to listen to the man to go into tirades about ‘being good’ and not actually breaking in, or at least to be met with the excited ‘baby boy!’ he was so used to hearing. To his surprise however, the merc only stared at him, unmoving to the point where the knife he was threatening the intercom with slid out of his hands, dropping onto the pavement with a sharp clang. The whites of his mask eyes were so wide, he resembled a deer caught in the headlights more closely than a dangerous mercenary. It was honestly quite concerning how out of character he was acting.

“Hey, are you okay?” He got closer to the gate, the merc finally snapping out of his trance, falling back into character as he whistled lowly in appreciation. “Hot damn, what are you, and who are you doing here, gorgeous?” He practically purred out. Gorgeous? Peter raised a hand to stroke his face, confirming that yes, he was in fact a major dumbass who forgot his mask on his way out of his room. He stuttered out a response about as generic as he could get it, “I’m- um, live... here. Not doing anyone actu- Hey wait, I should be the one asking you the questions!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Deadpool grinned. “You’re... “ Peter clenched his teeth in anticipation. This was it. This was the end. He accidentally revealed his secret identity to one of the most dangerous mercenaries known to man, one that could not keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. Soon, everyone would know his identity and all it would take was a slip of the lips. Now he had to change his name, get a new face, and move to a different country or planet. Maybe even a different universe. 

If he wasn’t killed by a pissed off supervillain in his sleep after this, Tony would kill him. Hell, better to just end it now and save everyone the trouble. He turned around to walk back into the compound. 

“...so so pretty. Hey wait, where are you going? Let a guy get a name at least!” Peter halted midstep, his shoulders sagging in relief at the realization that Deadpool actually didn’t recognize him without the mask, somehow. “Why should I give you anything?” He crossed his arms as he turned his body to face Deadpool again, furrowing his brows in confusion. And pretty? He was literally wearing Tony’s old Stark Industries t-shirt that fit him too loose, sweatpants from his dirty laundry pile, and his uncombed hair was curling in every direction. He didn’t look presentable at all, much less pretty. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, honestly. I just came by to see my buddy Spider-Man. I didn’t mentally prepare myself to meet an actual sexpot today. Not that Spidey isn’t one! I mean _damn_ have you _seen_ that ass? Not that yours isn’t amazing either, I’m sure it is and I’d love to check it out sometime.” He finished with a grin so wide he could see it stretch the mask. Peter just stood in silence before electing that it was definitely way too early to be dealing with the merc. “Yeah, okay I haven’t had enough coffee for this shit. I’m gonna go back inside. Could you do me a favor and leave so Mr. Stark doesn’t take away my TV rights or something? I really need it, I’ve got a Harry Potter marathon to finish.”

“Copy that, boss. I’ll leave the gate alone, seeya in a bit.” Deadpool winked, blowing a kiss before quickly turning and walking out of sight. Shrugging, Peter went back inside, officially electing it one of the weirdest mornings he’s had since the spider bite. It felt a bit too easy that all he had to do was say go for Deadpool to leave, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As he entered the compound, he felt his phone go off with a text message alert.

**[Iron Dad]**  
_Thx, knew I could count on you, kid. Ur college tuition’s on me x_

Peter rolled his eyes with a snort before tucking his phone back into his pocket and bounding up the stairs back towards his bedroom, excited to get back into bed and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. He stopped at the kitchen, humming as he microwaved a couple bags of popcorn and stuffed a few bottles of soda and crap food into his pockets in preparation for his day long movie marathon. 

After balancing all the food and drinks into a somewhat secure position in his arms so he could bring it all back into his room in one trip, he finally made it back in front of his bedroom door. 

He reached for the doorknob with his free hand, pausing as he felt something off. His spidey sense was picking up something not quite right with his room. It wasn’t dangerous or anything, just unusual. Bracing himself for a fight he opened his room door slowly, only to be met with the sight of a certain merc casually relaxing on his bed, the curtains over his open window billowing as the wind passed through the room.

“What. The. Hell.” he walked into his room, slamming the door closed behind him. “What are you doing here?! Why are you in my room? How did you even get up here?!” he hissed, bewildered as he set the drinks down on his desk before facing the man in his bed. 

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself, I had to see you again, and it didn’t look like Rapunzel was gonna be leaving the compound any time soon, or offer me a lock of hair, so I figured I’d climb the tower myself.”

“How did you get past security? Why were you at the gate if you could’ve just gotten in yourself?”

Deadpool silently shrugged, grabbing a piece of popcorn out of the bowl Peter was holding and squishing it between his fingers. “Just trying to get some attention I guess.” Peter watched as he flicked the squished popcorn into the bin in the corner, sighing. It was quite a sad sight, and watching the merc, who looked incredibly defeated sitting on the edge of a twin bed playing with popcorn just gave his heart strings the slightest of tugs.

“Ughh, fine." He groaned. "Did you uhhh… wanna finish Harry Potter with me?” Peter gestured to the TV, not knowing what else to say. And as if a switch was flipped, suddenly he was Deadpool again. “Oh I never thought you’d ask, I’d _love_ to cuddle up in bed with you to watch the entirety of Harry Potter. Hashtag drarryforlife.” He pulled Peter onto the bed by the hand, grinning visibly through the mask the entire time. A small part of him felt a twinge of regret, an ‘oh god what have I done’ briefly zipping through his head at his impulse decision, while admittedly another part of him was just happy to see the merc acting his usual goofy self again. Seeing how vulnerable Deadpool was just then, without the crazed outlandish persona was unnerving. It made him seem less like the supersuited merc with a mouth, regeneratin’ degenerate, and so much more… human. His brief display of vulnerability added a depth to the Deadpool act that Peter wasn’t sure he was quite ready to deal with or think about yet, which just made his feelings toward the man that much more complicated. 

He repeated the thoughts in his head: It was easier to just hate him, he’d been doing it for years. Don’t get too attached, bury the feelings. He allowed Deadpool to pull them both into a more comfortable position, and could feel his guard lowering as he wrapped the two of them into a blanket.

Resigned, Peter dropped the scowl from his face as he laid down on his belly, settling down close to the merc. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t actually mind the company. The bowl of popcorn was placed between them as he hit the play button and let the movie run from the beginning.

\---

Peter woke up to the credits of the Order of The Phoenix rolling to an end.the light from the TV illuminated the dark room, his head resting comfortably in the mercs lap as a hand ran softly through his hair. He was so relaxed, feeling the most peaceful he had in a while that he almost fell right back asleep had the door to his room not slammed opened flooding the bedroom with light, followed by a seething “I found you, you fucker.”

His enhanced senses did not approve of the sudden visual assault, but his Spidey sense on the other hand didn’t seem to mind whoever had just kicked in his room door. So it was probably no threat to him. Which most likely meant Tony, probably. He groaned, rolling to face away from the light and clenching his eyes tight, pulling the blanket over his shoulder, and wrapping his arms around the solid waist next to him. “Five more minutes,” he grumbled, not ready to give up the most comfortable, undisturbed rest he had gotten in a while. He heard a “shhhhh” above him, then a series of “oh no, nuh uh, no, not happening, no.”'s getting progressively closer as the blanket was pulled off of his head. He turned to see Tony standing over him, the light from the hallway illuminating the silhouette of his body in a halo of light, like the terrifying angel of repressed paternity he was. Peter snorted at his own dad joke, partially unsure if he was really fully awake or not yet, “heyyy dad,” he slurred out, voice still scratchy from sleep, “could y’turn off th’ light it’s burnin’ my eyeballs.” the hand in his hair continued to run through his curls, lulling him back to sleep.

He saw Tony look guilty for a split second before the nanobots of his suit surrounded his arms, allowing him to pick both Peter and the blanket up with ease, prying his arms off of where they were wrapped around the merc’s waist. “Sorry kid, just gonna move you a bit- there we go,” he lay Peter on the other side of the bed where he sat up slowly to start rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, no longer unable to sleep from the sudden lack of warmth. He yawned, stretching out his stiff muscles after the day-slash-night-long movie marathon. He hadn’t even realized that Tony had continued speaking at all, until he finally made an effort to tune in and figure out what was going on. “-did anything to him I will fucking kill you and then keep you in a vat of acid so you never regenerate, then I’ll ship you and your acid jar to space in a trash bag, and-”

“I didn’t do anything to your kid, calm down. I haven’t seen you this worked up since Captain America left you for Barnes.” Deadpool had his hands up in mock surrender. “What- my ki- Rogers didn’t- you know what,” he ran a hand over his face, “nevermind, just get out of here before I can come up with more creative ways to end your sad existence.”

“But I didn’t even get his name yet. Come on, Stark, at least let me put a name to the face of the absolute bombshell of a secret son you’ve been hiding. Congrats by the way. Call me Maury, because you _are_ the father! Who’s the lucky lady?” 

“You’re disgusting. One more word out of your mouth, and I will kill you dead.”

Deadpool threw his hands back up in defeat, tossing a wink and a ‘call me’ sign over to Peter before jumping out of the window, landing on the pavement below with a gross splat. 

Later, Peter would find Deadpool’s phone number scratched into his headboard with a knife, along with a cartoon version of himself winking carved right next to it.

He added it to his contacts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of the first fic I've written in a long long time. I know the pacing can be a bit off, and it probably makes absolutely no sense, but I hope it's alright. Let me know what you think!  
and yes that opening line was a supernatural reference


	2. Chapter 2

The two of them sat underneath a billboard after a quiet patrol. Deadpool had bought the food again that night, which Peter was always grateful for. Despite living with the Avengers, and being an actual adult, Tony still felt the need to baby him, which included giving him a ‘small allowance’. This in his terms, meant roughly $10,000 a month. No matter how he looked at it though, it wasn’t _really_ his money, and he could never bring himself to use it without feeling guilty.

“What’s on your mind, baby boy? Because we both know I can tell you all about what’s on mine.” Deadpool leaned closer as he began telling his story in a very animated fashion, “so I got a job from Weas the other day where some journalist wanted to find out what or who was hiding in the Avengers compound, so I…”

Peter tuned him out after ‘baby boy’ as his heart rate began to pick up. He was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that he was reacting so strongly to something as Deadpool being close, when on any other given day, he definitely would have made some remark about personal space. But the memory of a hand running through his hair, the volume of the TV turned down to a soft whisper, and the feeling of warmth underneath him promptly shut his mental mouth right up. In fact, he found himself leaning in, craving the connection. It was like what had happened between them unlocked that soft spot he had for the merc, connecting the dots like clues on a yarn board leading to none other than: repressed feelings and a genuine enjoyment of the mans company.

No, he didn’t _like_ Deadpool or anything like that (well, he didn’t _think_ so at least) but he didn’t… didn’t completely loathe his existence either. It was complicated at best, especially when his brain kept running back to that last movie night, then sprinting full speed at whatever annoying thing he had done recently. It was giving him emotional whiplash. This was, of course, even worse considering the fact that he couldn't actively show that anything in their dynamic had changed. What happened that night happened to Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. If he acted like anything was different now, Deadpool would know. “-turns out, it wasn’t laser sharks, what Stark was _actually_ hiding was, get a load of this: a kid. His kid.” he paused, “baby, you know I love your face, but you’re like, unnaturally close to me right now, are you okay? You’re not about to pass out or anything are you?

Peter startled out of his thoughts, jumping back five feet and choking on his saliva. “I’m fine I’m okay. You said Tony Stark has a what now?” he managed between coughs as Deadpool patted his back. “Yeah, Stark has a whole ass mini-Stark tucked away in the compound. I hung out with him, we watched movies all day, it was _very_ romantic. Love at first sight. I mean, before Iron-dad came in full on papa bear mode and kicked me out, but Spidey,” Deadpool practically swoons, “he’s _so_ pretty. And I’m totally not just saying that to make you jealous, but if it’s working, then bonus points for me.”

“Why would I be jealous? If anything, I’m relieved that you finally found someone else to annoy.” Peter felt the heat rising to his cheeks, barely making it through that sentence without stuttering. If he was being honest though, he _was_ jealous. Listening to Deadpool absolutely dote on someone else so openly made him irrationally upset. He thought that what they had between the two of them as superheroes was special. That maybe those compliments Deadpool poured onto him on a nightly basis actually meant something. But if he was talking about someone else now, then where did that leave Spider-Man? Was all that flirtation just a joke to him? Was any of that ever real? Was he really about to catch unrequited feelings for the mercenary? Either way, what he _did_ know was that sitting there listening to him dote on this new crush made his stomach churn uncomfortably, like he had been forgotten. Which he did realize was kind of dumb, considering that it would mean he was jealous of himself. “Did you uh, did you get a name from this mystery boy?” he tried to steer the conversation towards an end, knowing full well that he hadn’t given away his actual name.

Deadpool sighed wistfully, “no, I never asked. I was too distracted.” Peter nodded, allowing a comfortable silence to settle over the two of them. He stared up at the flickering billboard light, wondering exactly where this left the two of them, or if he, as Peter, could ever bring himself to reveal his identity. If he did, would Deadpool be mad at him for lying? Would he ruin his relationship with the man entirely? He suddenly found that he struggled to imagine never patrolling with him ever again. Despite his annoying tendencies, there was a certain charm to them that he found himself attracted to, and if he was completely honest, Deadpool was one of the few capable heroes he knew he could count on to have his back in a fight no matter what they were against. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ended up losing his partner over his own selfish feelings.

“Wait, don’t _you_ also live in the compound?” Peter snapped his head up, silently praying to any sort of higher power that everything he just stressed about wasn’t about to come to fruition and that Deadpool hadn’t just figured out his identity. “Do you know who I’m talking about, Webs? Cute, nerdy, brown hair, bambi eyes, big Iron Man fan?”

Peter took a slow bite of his hot dog, his mind racing to find an explanation or excuse. “Yeah, I know exactly who you’re talking about. He’s not actually Tony’s kid. He’s more like a glorified, overpaid intern.” He snorted. Technically, that was all the truth. So far so good. “Can you tell me his name then? Or put in a good word for your ol’ buddy Deadpool.” He elbowed him suggestively. Peter huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why would I do that.”

“You don’t have to. I’m just messing with you” He shrugged with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m not replacing you or anything. You’re still my number one, baby boy, pinky promise.” He continued after noticing Peters frown, holding a pinky out. Peter stared down at it, still pouting slightly, unsure if that was the complete truth or not. The reminder that Deadpool could actually end up falling for Peter and losing interest in Spider-Man set off another pang of completely unwarranted jealousy in his chest. He shot his hand out, linking their fingers together in a quick impulsive act.

Neither of them said anything or made a move to let go, and by the time Peter finally worked up the courage to look up and face the other man, he found himself surprised to be met with the lower half of a face so red it almost matched his suit, save for the scarring of course. Peter jerked his hand away, hoping his own flush wasn’t as obvious in the darkness. He pulled away quickly, looking up at the stars and taking a deep breath, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Y-yeah, anyways, you better not go cheating on me or anything now, ‘Pool.” Peter cursed himself for the stutter, his heart pounding in his chest. He was never so thankful that Deadpool didn’t have enhanced senses. Otherwise, if his stutter didn’t give it away, the erratic beating of his heart would have made it a no brainer on how he _really_ felt.

Realizing the implications of what he just said, he quickly added on “no reason to drag some poor innocent civilian into having to deal with your incessant rambling and lack of self preservation. Or something like that.” Peter mentally facepalmed at how stupid he sounded. Not to mention rude. It baffled him that Deadpool still hung around him at all.

“Awwww we’re having a moment. A bro-ment, you could say. Is my little webhead _actually_ getting jealous? For realsies” He teased, leaning in and wiggling his eyebrows. Peter snorted, feeling the tension lift, his mood instantly lightening at the standard teasing. For a moment, he could pretend like it was just patrol again. Like nothing had changed between them, when in fact, everything had. Well, for Peter Parker at least.

Just not between Spider-Man and Deadpool. 

“You’re crazy.” 

“Yeah, crazy about you.”

He felt like melting on the spot. Peter didn’t know how much more of this he could take before his heart gave out. He needed to put some distance between them. “Aaand the moments over.” Peter pushed him back with a hand on his chest. “I’m gonna take off. Thanks for the food again. Don’t harass the poor guy too much.” he briefly saluted before swinging away towards the compound upstate. He needed so much distance. Enough distance to where he could forget the way he felt in the company of his partner and not think about what it could possibly mean. Far away enough to convince himself he didn’t like Deadpool.

\------------------------

Peter landed by his bedroom window at the compound, sticking to the side of the building as he jimmied the glass open. Slipping inside, he quietly closed the window behind him, turning around to come face to face with the dark silhouette of someone sitting on his bed. He yelped in surprise, instinctively jumping back and shooting a web at the intruder, who sat up abruptly, grabbing at the webbing now clinging to the side of their face before their shoulders sagged in annoyance

“I- really, Peter? For gods sake.” The lamp by his bed flipped on, and a very pissed off looking Tony Stark glared right back at him. The side of his hair was sticking up at an odd angle, and his normally well tailored suit was wrinkled on one side as he leaned against the headboard of Peter’s bed. “My god it’s like I never get any privacy in my own damn room,” he muttered under his breath. “Mr. St- Tony why the hell were you just sitting in my room _in the dark_?” He hissed, gesturing wildly. “It’s like midnight, what are you doing here?” He slumped into a chair in an effort to calm his racing heart. “I came in earlier because I wanted to show you the upgrade I made to your suit, but you took so goddamn long to get back I-" he took a deep breath, rubbing at his temple, "FRIDAY must’ve gotten the lights for me, where were you by the way? You told me you wrapped up patrol around...” Tony glanced down at his wrist, which didn’t actually have a watch, “10pm.” He deadpanned.

“Sorry, it's just that Deadpool bought me dinner, and we just chatted a bit. He told me that he thinks I’m your son or something. Not _me_ me, like, Spidey-me. He means me as in Peter-me. And, I mean I corrected him, but then I thought he had me figured out, but I was wrong, and-” ''Peter.” Tony cut him off. 

“Yeah?” He paused from his pacing mid-step to look up at the groggy man. “Get this off of me?” Tony lazily gestured to the webbing still clinging onto the side of his face. “Oh, right, yeah, sorry” Peter quickly moved to grab the web dissolvant to free his mentor

\---

The two of them hovered around the Iron Spider suit in Tony's lab. It was laid out flat, inside out with the wires exposed so the two of them could make miniscule adjustments here and there. They worked in relatively comfortable silence, occasionally broken by Tony insisting on adding helpful widgets, like a reusable parachute, which he was now currently working on while Peter rested his chin in his folded arms, unenthusiastically picking at some loose wiring.

Tony looked over at the young hero, frowning. He didn't mind the silence or anything, but Peter was normally so much more talkative, gushing with excitement and rambling about his day, or pushing new ideas and shooting down some of Tony's. Something was up. “Talk to me, kid. What’s wrong? You’ve been sat there moping all night, come on. What’s knocking around upstairs? And don’t say nothing because I know you, and I know how you look when something’s on your mind, so spill.” He said without looking up from the suit. 

After a thoughtful beat, he got his answer. Surprisingly without even a fight or any resistance “It’s Deadpool.” Peter sighed, poking at a drill bit. Tony only snorted in response, seemingly unfazed, “When is it not?” 

Peter gave him a glare, but softened it immediately, grateful that the mechanics attention was still fully directed towards the super suit below him. “Seriously, why do you keep hanging out with him. I told you when you first met him that he was nothing but trouble, but noooo, you wanted to prove that you could ‘change him’ or something.” Tony grumbled. 

“He did change. He doesn’t kill anymore, kinda. I did that you know.” Peter mumbled back. It was true, Ever since he and Deadpool had started patrolling together, he managed to convince the merc to stop murdering small-time muggers and other everyday street thugs. He couldn’t stop him from taking jobs, but it was an improvement, and he was really proud of that. “Yeah, well he’s still as repulsively annoying as ever, not to mention crude and vulgar among other nice names. That’s all still the same as its always been. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, Pete.”

“Yeah, I know.” Peter whined, “But that’s not what I’m upset about.” Tony closed the suit back up, straightening his back to lean against the table. He finally made eye contact with Peter, giving him his full attention. “Talk to me, kid.” 

Peter took a deep breath. “Okay so I really loathe Deadpool. I’ve made this clear to him multiple times. He’s always putting himself in danger, and he always says stuff he doesn’t mean, and it’s dumb, and I’ve never _really_ liked him because of that. But like, recently, I’ve been tolerating him more, and I’ve been enjoying his company, but I just kinda brushed it off as my tolerance for him rising, but then he started talking about _Peter_, and I got like, jealous, which I know is stupid _because I’m Peter_.” He paused to catch his breath. “And then remember the other day when he came by and broke in? We ended up watching movies, and I woke up with my head in his lap, and I’d, like, never felt so relaxed in my life. Tony, I… I don’t think I hate him. And that scares me. I’ve disliked him for so long because it’s just easier that way. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why my feelings for him are changing, but maybe like, it’s not that they’re _changing_, maybe I’m just now realizing how I feel or something. Maybe I never hated him at all. I don’t know, I don’t get it. I don’t understand what’s going on. Ugh.”

Tony blinked back at him slowly. “So what I’m getting out of this,” he pointed at Peter with two fingers, raising an eyebrow, “is that you have a crush on him.”

Peter straightened his back quickly as his face went beet red. "What? No! No I don't. Oh my god, Tony no. That- that's ridiculous. He's so… _him_. And I'm _me_. And um…" Peter trailed off, burying his face back into his folded arms on the table. "I don't have a crush on him. That's dumb. You're dumb. Shut up." He muffled. He was about 80% sure he did not have a crush on the merc. He figured that that was something he would have noticed in the four or five years they had known each other. Not hating Deadpool, he was ready to accept. Having a _crush_ on Deadpool was a whole other story, and that was a can of worms he was not ready to crack open just yet. Or maybe ever.

He lifted his head to gauge Tony’s reaction, whose expression appeared unchanged, if not slightly more amused. “Well, good. Deadpool’s kind of a garbage person, so whatever gets you to stop hanging around him works for me. I don’t know what I’d do if you started picking up his habits. Might have to disown you or something.” He grinned.

Peter stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, “You don’t actually own me though, parentally or legally. I’m an independent spidey that don’t need no Iron Man.” He tossed his hair back defiantly, puffing out his chest.

“Well, let's see. If I remember correctly, _I_ was the one that built your suits, not including that old pajama onesie of course. You live under _my_ roof and go to a university that _I_ pay for. I give you spending money out of _my_ pocket, not to mention the Spider-Man patent for merchandising and commercial usage is under _my_ name as well.” He gave Peter a look. “So technically, you’re a dependent under my roof which makes me your pseudo-guardian at the very least. And legally I _do_ own Spider-Man, so… check and mate?”

“What the hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a slower chapter. Sorry about that D:  
I just need to inch Peter a liiiittle closer to accepting his feelings. He just really doesn't wanna admit it yet. We're almost there though, no worries.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning, Peter does get sexually harassed on the street a bit in this chapter. It's a minor scene, but I wanted to put this out there just in case

Peter could hear the distinct sound of pebbles hitting his window if he focused through the music currently blasting through his headphones. Tony had lent him his collection of classic rock albums to ‘educate his uncultured ass.’ Which was kind of working. He now knew the difference between Led Zeppelin and AC/DC, so that was great. 

The first time Peter had commented on Tony’s music choice while working in the lab, he had made the mistake of mixing up the artists. This, he assumed, nearly gave Tony an aneurysm based purely on how strongly he reacted in disgust and shock.

But anyways, the pebbles.

Peter took off his headphones to get a better listen, and sure enough, there were the distinctive pips of pebbles hitting his window every few seconds or so. He stood up to check on the identity of the offender, lifting the window to peer down only to be unsurprisingly met with a familiar red and black suit, much to his excitement. Not that it could have been anyone else, the guns and knives strapped all over him made him pretty hard to miss.

“Hey again, Rapunzel!” He enthusiastically waved up at the window where Peter’s head was peeking out of. “Deadpool? What are you doing? And how did you get in again?” Peter questioned, slinking slightly back into his room. He was not ready to face Deadpool just yet. _Especially_ not after his talk with Tony the other night. 

When he didn’t get an answer right away, he peeked out the window again, squinting at the merc who continued to look incredibly pleased with himself. “If you’re looking for Spider-Man, he’s not here right now.” He tried in hopes that that would get the merc to leave.

“Actually, I’m here to see you! I’ve come to rescue you from your tower! Show you a whole new world! Wait no that’s a different fairy tale. Anywho, can you come outside, or are you actually locked in? Because I can break you out if it comes to that. I brought suction cups.” He waved two comically large suction cups in his hands, his shit eating grin never leaving his face. “Okay, I lied, these actually don’t work all that well, but they are a lot of fun.”

“Me?” He flushed, eyes going wide in surprise. Damn his blood cells and the lack of control that came with them. “Wait, I can’t just leave with you just because you say so!” He shouted down the open window, “I don’t even know you all that well and stuff!” He shrank back into his room again, internally cringing at the realization that he just said the word ‘you’ about a gazillion times in that one sentence. He felt like an idiot.

“Perfect, we’ll use this as a chance to get to know each other then. Hi, I’m Deadpool by the way, but you can call me your hot date.” Peter jumped backwards away from the window with a yelp, stumbling at the sudden presence directly in front of him. “What?! How even?” He squeaked from the floor, staring up at Deadpool, who had somehow managed to climb up to the fourth story window and shoved half his torso in. “Deaddy’s secret. Ready to go, princess?”

Peter hung his head in defeat. “You know what, fine. I need some air anyways, but I’m not gonna hop out my window. I’m taking the stairs. Like a normal person. Feel free to follow or throw yourself back out.” He shrugged on an old blue hoodie, stuffing his wallet into the back of his jeans and discreetly slipping his web shooters on his wrists before pulling the door open to head downstairs.

\------------------------

The two of them walked side by side down the busy afternoon streets of New York, getting the expected weird looks, as well as the less than expected ‘are you okay’s from passing concerned citizens. Which was quite fair to be honest. Anyone would be worried about Deadpool closely following a ‘civilian’ around a city. But it was New York, so the fact that anyone bothered asking at all was surprising in and of itself. He figured they were probably tourists and moved on. “Well, you got me.” Peter started. “I’m out of the compound. Now what?” 

\---

They ended up watching a movie. Some random horror flick they had never heard of. Twenty minutes into the film, it was obvious why. The deaths were all CGI, and not even good CGI, it was like the editor looked up a youtube tutorial on how to make splatter effects, then copy and pasted that a few times over the scene. Throw in a couple of royalty free slasher sound effects, and you had yourself _Harriots Halloween Horror House 2: Electric Boogaloo_.

Yes, that was the actual title.

Regardless, it was still enjoyable to some extent. The rest of the theater was empty, which made it easier for them to make fun of the bad acting out loud. They shared the tub of popcorn, and occasionally, Peter would reach in and throw a piece at the screen, booing when a character made a poor choice. Which happened a lot.

Despite the horrible acting, writing, directing and editing, watching a movie with the merc was nice. It brought back fond memories of the movie marathon they had when Deadpool had broken into his room the other day, which only made Peters heart beat a bit faster. He found himself leaning into the other man throughout the course of the movie, subconsciously sliding down in his seat until he had his back pressed against Deadpool’s arm. 

A few minutes later, Deadpool lifted his arm to drape it around his shoulder. They stayed like that for the rest of the film.

\---

They left the theater giggling, the crisp evening air hitting them quickly as the door closed behind them. Peter shivered briefly, and Deadpool slung his arm over him again, pulling him closer. “I’d give you my jacket, but it’s kind of attached to my pants, and I don’t think you want to see that. Plus, I don’t put out on the first date, princess, you gotta try harder than that.” 

Peter laughed harder, his cheeks warming in response. “Why do you keep calling me that?” They walked down the emptying streets of New York pressed against each other. “I mean I got you out of your tower, and saved you from the iron-dragon. It only makes sense.”

He shrugged. Yeah, it made sense. “Hey, wanna get something to eat that isn’t popcorn? Like that taco truck on 5th. It’s one of my favorites,” Peter suggested with a grin, “it’s on Tony” he added, waving his wallet tantalizingly. Deadpool placed a hand on his heart, “My god, it’s like we were made for each other.” 

He handed Deadpool a 50 from his wallet, before slipping it into his back pocket as he made his way to claim a nearby table. He yelped as someone walking by slapped his ass, squeezing it with a bruising grip. “Damn, that’s fuckin’ tight.” A man leered as he walked past. Peter flushed in anger and embarrassment, grabbing where he had been slapped to assess the damage. He knew it would be gone within the next day, but it still hurt nonetheless. He felt his pocket, then the other one, then his two front pockets only to find his wallet was missing. 

“Aw man.” he groaned under his breath. Running to catch up to the man. “Hey! Hey dude I think you’ve got something of mine.” He stopped in front of the man, who was openly flipping through the wallet. “Can I have that back, please?” 

“What, this?” He waved the wallet around. “No, actually this is mine. Finders keepers, thems the rules.” He tried to walk past him, but Peter sidestepped in front of him, blocking him again. “Unless your name’s Peter Parker, no, that’s very much so mine.” He was fully aware that Tony wouldn’t be all that upset if he lost some cash, but it was about the principle of it. And he wasn’t about to let this criminal get his hands on hundreds of dollars to buy whatever criminals buy. “Fuck, you’re _fierce_. I like that. Tell you what, I'll give it back if you come home with me.” He started walking towards him, sneering, backing him up against a wall. The man got into his personal space reeking of alcohol, crowding him against the brick, Peter putting a hand out in front of him to create some distance. “Uh, ew no thank you I’ve actually got plans to watch paint dry for 5 hours tonight.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Pretty little thing like you, bet you make such sweet noi-” He was cut off by a gunshot, both of them frozen in place. Deadpool pointed a gun in the air, looking absolutely murderous. Peter took the opportunity to shove him away hard, the man hitting the ground with a grunt. “Yikes,” Peter grabbed his wallet from where it had landed on the sidewalk.

“Are you okay?” Deadpool put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, guiding him away. “Yeah I’m fine. Just upset.”

“How did he get you all the way over here?” He handed Peter the tacos as the man shouted obscenities at the two of them from behind. “Asshole grabbed my ass and palmed my wallet.” 

“He _what?!_” Deadpool pivoted on his heel, gun once again trained on the man as he clicked the safety off. “Woah woah woah, wait, no. Deadpool come on, it’s not a big deal. Definitely not worth killing over” Peter stood in front of the man, shielding him from the view of the gun. “He didn’t really _do_ anything. I think he’s just drunk. Let’s just leave him to the cops, and we can go enjoy our tacos, okay?” Peter offered a smile.

“He harassed _and_ mugged you, sweetheart, he-” 

“Will be dealt with properly by the cops.” Peter finished for him. Deadpool took in a deep breath, glancing at his wrist before huffing out a “fine,” and lowering his gun unenthusiastically. Peter smiled in relief, walking forward to take the mercs arm to guide him away before he could change his mind. 

They sat down at a nearby park after Peter had called the police to deal with the drunk. “I’m really glad you didn’t hurt him, Deadpool.” He smiled. The merc sat in front of him, arms folded under his chin, “yeah me too.” Peter swallowed his bite, “we should do this again sometime. I actually had a lot of fun today, if you don’t count me getting half robbed.” He smiled. He actually did have a surprisingly great time with him, and to say that he wasn’t looking forward to the merc breaking into the compound again would be a lie.

He looked up at Deadpool expectantly only to find the merc silent next to him. His smile dropped from his face the longer he just sat there in front of him, not saying a word. “Deadpool?” he tried again.

“I gotta be honest with you, princess. Just because I don’t want you to think any lesser of me than you probably already do, but I… can’t.” Peter looked away, disappointed and prepared to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. Deadpool had just burst into his civilian life, unexpectedly, and had gotten so close to him as Peter, only to tear the carpet up from beneath him and tell him no. He felt like an idiot for thinking that the feelings were anything more than friendship, and then managing to _fall in love_ with Deadpool as Peter Parker.

“I really do like Spider-Man, I’m sorry.”

Peters eyes went wide. He hadn't seen that coming at all. “Oh.”

“You just really remind me of him. I thought that if we got along well enough, then I could forget about him and move on, y’know? But it turns out that being around you just makes me miss him more, and that’s not fair to you at all. I’m really sorry. He’s everything I _want_ to be. He keeps me right, and makes me want to be a better person than the shitstain on the earth I currently am. I know he hates me, and that I have absolutely no chance with someone as amazing as him, I just wish he knew that at the very least I _do_ try.” He sighed, leaning back. 

Peter didn’t know what to say. Part of him was still a bit crushed, but the other part was excited as well. He didn’t hate Deadpool. In fact he knew for a fact that he never had. What he didn’t know though, was the extent of Deadpool’s feelings. He had always brushed the flirtations off as him just being him, never really taking them as anything more. He hadn’t realized that they were, well, _real_. He wanted to apologize for ever being too harsh, or discrediting his efforts, and tell him that the feeling was mutual. He just had to figure out how to communicate all this without giving away his identity, and then maybe the next time he saw him as Spider-Man… maybe they could work. 

Without thinking, Peter blurted out, “he does!” before snapping his mouth shut before anything compromising could come out of it. “He... what?” Deadpool turned his head to face him, an eye cocked in confusion. “He knows. Spider-Man, um. He knows that you try.” Peter stuttered, “and he doesn’t hate you!” he added quickly, realizing the hole he was digging himself into could very well be his own grave. 

Deadpool snorted sadly. “How would you know?” 

“He… talks about you! Like a lot, and um, he told me about you, and how you don’t kill as much anymore, and he thinks that it’s super cool of you.” Peter twiddled his fingers in his lap, hoping that the web of words he was vomiting out didn’t sound like he was just making it up on the spot. Technically he wasn’t. He really was proud of the progress Deadpool had made, and he _did_ catch himself thinking of the merc more often. Technically, the only lie was the fact that he was telling this as if he and Spider-Man weren’t the same person. Everything else was the truth he never had the guts to spill himself.

Deadpool seemed to visibly brighten up. “He thinks I’m cool?” Peter nodded quickly, looking the man up and down. Yeah, he was pretty cool. “Did he um, say anything else..? About me?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, thatwasadumbquestionIdon’treallycareand-”

“No! No, he talks about you all the time. In fact, he never stops talking about you. Like how he likes that you have a sense of humor regardless of how dangerous the situation is.” Peter interrupted. “He actually likes that you whistle cute little songs on patrol because it makes it less tense.” Peter blushed as his mouth began running on autopilot, and everything he loved about the merc came pouring out of his mouth.

“H-he likes that you buy him dinner every night even though he can afford it himself. He thinks that you’re one of the only few people in the world out there that won’t betray him given the chance, no matter what. He likes that you’ll protect innocent people first if a battle ever gets too out of hand. One time he noticed that you bought him a rose on patrol, but you never got to give it to him because some space assholes started fucking up the city. He acts like he finds you annoying but he actually loves that you can keep up with his quips in a fight. He- he hates that you disregard your own safety and get yourself killed so often, because it makes him worried that one day you won’t get back up.” His vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears. 

Peter took a deep breath, realizing how emotional he was getting. He raised a hand to his face to catch a tear before it could fall. “S-sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” he murmured, turning away to dry his eyes. He felt overwhelmed, finally getting to say everything on his mind and lay it out, rather than keeping it in and ignoring the way he felt.

“Hey…” Deadpool caught his chin under his gloved hand, carefully turning him to face him again. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry I asked, I didn’t know you were so invested in Spideys relationships. He’s not dumping his emotional baggage on you or anything right? You can tell me if anything’s up, princess.”

He scoffed. He had almost forgotten that Deadpool didn’t know that he was Spider-Man. Almost. He took a deep breath. “Peter.”

“What now?”

“Me. I- My name’s Peter. I- I told you that you could have my name when I stop finding your existence... repulsive. Which was a really mean thing to say and I’m really sorry. I just-” Peter wiped at his eyes again, “My name’s Peter.” He gulped, ”I really really like you.” He choked out, clenching his eyes tight.

Deadpool was silent next to him, and for a while, Peter began to worry that he was actually about to get rejected. Again. He felt his cheeks get impossibly warmer at the embarrassment. He had just poured his heart out, and was preparing himself mentally for the laughter that was soon to follow.

Instead, he was met with strong arms pulling him close against the leather suit, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he visibly relaxed. Peter hadn’t realized that he had been shaking until he felt himself go loose in Deadpool’s arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into the other man’s steadily rising chest. Physically, Deadpool appeared about as calm as one could be in the given situation, but Peter’s enhanced hearing could pick up the erratic rate that Deadpool’s heart was beating at within his ribcage. He was scared. Hell, they both were.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that me... dying even mattered to you. I’ll dial it back from now on, I’m so sorry baby boy.” Deadpool lifted the bottom half of his mask to place a kiss on Peters temple. “It’s okay,” Peter whispered back softly. He felt light in Deadpool’s arms. “Sorry I lied about who I was.”

“I mean to be fair, I had a feeling that that was you, Webs. Come on, no two people can have an ass _that_ good.”

Peter sat up abruptly to look him in the eyes. Well, the mask ones at the very least. “You’re literally the worst, Deadpool.”

“Call me Wade.”

“You’re literally the worst, Wade.”

“You’re kind of a brat, you know that?”

“Shuddup.”

“You loooove me.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Make me.”

Peter frowned at him, unimpressed, before webbing his mouth shut. Deadpool laughed, cutting the web from his mouth with a knife. “Okay, yeah I deserved that one, but come on. Everyone knows that the proper fanfic response to ‘shut-up-make-me’ is a kiss.”

Peter put his head in his hands. “I regret everything. Can I take my confession back?” 

“There’s the Spidey I know and love.”

“Oookay date’s over.” Peter stood up, Deadpool trailing behind him. “Awww, our first date!” Deadpool cooed, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Can I walk you home and then sneak in through the window? If we’re dating, then we’re going full on 90’s teen romance here Petey-pie.” Peter leaned into him, huffing, not knowing what to say. “Does that mean I get to call you my boyfriend? Oh my god, Spider-Man’s my fucking boyfriend. I gotta tweet this.”

“I can’t believe I was emotional over you.”

“Admit it, you love me. Or don’t, we could probably drag this fic out another chapter or so if we throw in some miscommunication right now. Quick, say you don’t like me so we can have some tension for a few chapters until you say you lov-” 

Peter cut him off with a swift peck to the lips, causing Wade to quite literally choke on his words. “I don’t want to fight you on this, Wade. I love you. Stop. Jeez.” Peter cracked a smile. Despite his attitude, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. It was like he could just be himself around Deadpool again. Like nothing had changed except the label on their relationship

Peter looked up to find Wade staring adoringly down at him, not saying a word. “What?” he bumped the man lightly watching him sway to the side before settling back at his side.

“Nothing. I’m just… I love you so much, Webs. this doesn’t feel real. I feel like i’m about to wake up in my shitty apartment and realize this was just a vivid dream I created so I can project my deepest desires without judgement.”

That was a lot.

“Well, I think I’m real,” Peter suggested, patting himself down. “What do you think?” He held out his hand.

Wade gave it a few pokes, seemingly unsure if it was solid or not. Peter shoved his hand into his. “I’m trying to get you to hold it.” He deadpanned, a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Oh. So this… this is real?”

“This is real.”

“Tony’s gonna kill us you know.”

“You’re ruining the moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh I didn't know how to end this. I just know I wanted Peter to realize that nothing _had_ to change, and that their dynamic was already perfectly balanced.
> 
> I know there aren't any _huge_ gestures of love at the end, I just tried to write it as naturally as I could imagine something like that going down, if that makes any sense.
> 
> Also yes, that is a reference to "If I Could Tell Her" from Dear Evan Hansen! Thank you for noticing!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed! Thanks for checking this out! I've got a couple other fics in my drafts that I don't like as much but uh, yeah, we'll see if I'm brave enough to post them :D


End file.
